


Bloodlines

by hayden



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, M/M, Vampires, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 19:58:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2282679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayden/pseuds/hayden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vampires, angst, naughty language. Meet Isaia and Aidan, possibly the worst two people to wind up together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloodlines

“I’m in love with you.” The words were whispered into the shell of his ear and his stomach lurched the same way that it had the first time that those words had left his master’s mouth. He had wanted to believe it back then as much as he did in the present, but he had been turned away. He had been rebuked for what he had thought could only have been perceived as untoward behaviour. How could he possibly believe him, he wondered? The moment that he became aware of the arms winding around him was the moment that he realized he had begun to step away from him, stopped by the impossibly steely grasp of a man at least twenty times his strength and almost double his size. Impervious to the way that his protégé struggled against him he in fact held him with surprising ease, his master’s breath was as slow and as calm as always; a practiced act perfected over the millennia to give the illusion of life, the same as the pulse and warmth he faked with the help of overeating. These were things Isaia knew intimately. 

“You’ll have to forgive me for being skeptical,” he snapped, growling in frustration when he realized he was not getting anywhere very fast, his wiry body so tense that it actually almost hurt. “But the kind of man who lives by the adage of letting something go if you love it tends to be insincere. A man in love won’t give up on being with the one that he adores. He certainly would not banish them!” 

If the words had hurt him it did not show on his face, but as one arm remained locked around his middle, pinning his arms to his chest, so did the hand of his other slip down until he could feel the fingers pushing under the hem of his shirt: dusting across the fluttering muscles of his abdomen and sinking lower still. Soon enough he could feel nails scratching through the fine hair under his navel before they began to follow it down. All too quickly he felt himself reacting, his body betraying him under the touch as though it had been yearning for it all of this time, and much as he wanted to vehemently deny that, he knew there was truth to it. He had not simply felt dejected when he had been turned out by his master, he had felt ripped apart: exposed, empty, shredded. For a time he had honestly suspected that he would never feel happiness again in his life. Things had only recently started looking up… and now his master was there, ruining all of it, destroying the progress he had made with tiny baby steps over the past year. 

“Please let me go.” he whispered, hating the needful whimper that was so easily produced when the knuckles of his hand brushed against him. What was only beginning to rise stiffened at an impossible rate, and shame burned in his cheeks as he felt the material of his loose pants hanging against him. He shivered and it had nothing to do with repulsion, which he wished he felt. 

“You don’t want me to,” the taller male countered, his mouth still beside his ear, lips even daring to touch though the contact was light; ghost-like. It did nothing to stop him from shivering again, and his traitorous body did not merely hint to stray toward his moving hand, it straight out played right into it: his hips of their own according jerking forward in a disgusting, wanton display he wished to be no part of. 

“Aidan.” How he despised the sound of the gasp as it tore from his throat, carrying a name he hadn’t dared utter in such a long time- as though he had feared that it would summon his demon to him to break his heart all over again. “Aidan, please.” There was faint recognition that he was coming to a terrifying proximity of begging him and worse was the knowledge that he could not guarantee that he would be begging him to stop. It seemed obvious to him that he could no longer hide just what parts of him wanted the man to continue what he was doing as long fingers closed around him and lazily began to twist around him, a skilled hand stroking along the shaft just to turn back toward the base. A well timed squeeze saw to his knees buckling. Isaia was not sure when his arms had been released or when the one around them had moved around his waist, but he was aware of how he clung to Aidan’s sleeve with the grasp of a man who held on for dear life. Aidan would not let him fall, he was quite aware of that fact even as coherency slipped from his thoughts and was slowly replaced with the fantastic image of how they must have looked. 

Aidan, so tall, stooped just enough to support him with the strength of one hand as all that time he assaulted him with the other. ‘Assaulted’ was not quite right though, was it? He seduced him now as much as he had the first time that he had convinced him to follow him to Venice, the only difference in the present being that he used his hands instead of his words. Oh, but what he would have given to have made use of his master’s skilled mouth… and the idea was one that only strengthened his urges, lending to temptation he did not need. He was already sinking so fast, and Aidan was not going to show him mercy. Not now. Not when he had him compliant, too absorbed in the carnality of the moment to have returned to his argument. 

“How I have missed hearing your voice.” He did not want to hear it but no matter how tightly he shut his eyes, no matter how blinded he was when he squeezed them so harshly that white bloomed behind his eyelids and made him ache, he couldn’t shut Aidan out. Even the rising pitch of his own shortened breaths were nothing to the whisper of his master’s words. He knew exactly what he was doing, but of course he did. Aidan never went into anything unprepared. “You cannot imagine how much. Every night, I ached for you.” 

The words were fuel to a fire he thought lust had stamped out. Perhaps not expecting him to have anything in him left to fight with, Aidan had let his grip slacken and it was enough when he was surprised that when Isaia turned in his grasp, he was able to shove him back. His hands connected with Aidan’s strong chest, felt the immovable marble of his muscles under his palms, and hit hard enough to knock him back from him. Forced to let him go, Aidan’s eyes widened only a fraction and yet he did not advance towards him. He stood where he had been moved, what little it was, and said nothing when a step back was taken to increase the space now between them. Isaia wished it felt better than it did. 

“You have no right,” he rasped as he tried desperately to control his breath, wishing it calm and labouring to catch it. “No right at all! I have no idea? You ached for me?!” The more in control he became of that breath, the louder his voice grew until it was strong enough to cause the faintest flinch from his master. Sometimes sensitive hearing paid off, other times it was merely taxing. “One year, Aidan! One year being alone! I couldn’t get you out of my head! I thought every day that you would come to your senses and call me back, showing up to apologize, telling me you wanted to be with me! You played with my heart as much as you toyed with my body!” 

Unaccustomed to being the one yelled at, Aidan was clearly taken aback. He was quiet in the beginning, either giving Isaia the time to finish or merely letting it soak in- watching him seethe. He was a rare creature when he was mad like that. When Aidan’s surprise had cleared enough room for the next emotion to filter through, his protégé looked all the angrier to see it.

"I never...." Aidan murmured. "Isaia, no. I never toyed with you. Not intentionally. Everything we had was as precious to me as you were- are. You are still precious to me or I wouldn't have come back, and I think you know that and it scares you. Scares you the way it scared me into running away. Don't make my mistake... Don't run away from me."

**Author's Note:**

> Dear lord, bless me with someone willing to kick my ass into gear to add more to this shit. Amen.


End file.
